


turning pages

by grains_of_saturn



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Promptis Fan Week, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 16:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12063129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grains_of_saturn/pseuds/grains_of_saturn
Summary: Prompto isn't sure at what point he fell in love with Noctis, he only knows that hedid.





	turning pages

**Author's Note:**

> For promptisfanweek @ tumblr, day 1 - "Realization- the moment they knew it was love / Ten Years Later". (It was meant to be for the former but ended up kind of being a bit of both.)

 

Prompto hadn't known what to expect, on being told _the Crown Prince will be joining us, so try to make him feel welcome._ The classroom, at the time, had been set abuzz with excitement - _Prince Noctis?! Here!? In this school--!? With us--!?_ \- but on a very basic level, Prompto hadn't known what to think. He was aware of the ruling family of Lucis, because how could he not be? However, the prospect of that family's son - _the Prince_ \- suddenly being in his immediate proximity seemed amazing to contemplate.

He didn't have to voice any of his questions, hearing them repeated in excitable voices around him in the classroom, the hallway, wherever he went. _What will he be like? Do you think he'll be... cool? What would it be like, to be friends with royalty?_ It surprised Prompto how, before even arriving at the school, Noctis had already captured the imagination of those within it.

Despite that, all of those thoughts felt distant, somehow. To some degree, the level of near-hysteria displayed by his classmates felt bewildering; it was a surprising event, he could admit that much, but thoughts of _contact_ or _friendship_ felt beyond his perception. For all that everybody was talking about him, it felt guaranteed that he'd be popular - effortlessly surrounded by friends, charming his classmates, fitting in seamlessly. Perhaps he himself would be amongst them, but Prompto couldn't imagine a scenario in which _he_ would be able to talk to _the Crown Prince_.

He thought about it, regardless. Could you just go up and... talk to somebody? He'd be new, which was an advantage, but everybody was excited for his arrival, which was the opposite. From the moment Noctis arrived, Prompto knew that he'd be surrounded by curious admirers - he couldn't deny being curious himself, naturally, but also knew that there was little way to express that feeling. What would he even say, anyway? He barely had anything to say to his classmates as it was, let alone... someone like _that_.

That curiosity continued through the first time Prompto laid eyes on Noctis, _there_ , _in person_. Before class, surrounded by an enthusiastic crowd, as Prompto had predicted. It had surprised him, however, to note that Noctis seemed... different to how he'd imagined. To see him in person, Prompto couldn't quite articulate what that difference was, but there was _something_. Far from embracing the attention lavished upon him, Noctis seemed... reluctant? Prompto supposed that anybody was going to feel a bit overwhelmed on their first day somewhere new, regardless of whether they were royalty or not, but to see that in action still struck him as unexpected. (If those who surrounded him noticed, they gave no indication of having done so; for as much as Noctis seemed bashful, they doubled their enthusiasm to make up for it.)

At home, afterward, and for some time after, Prompto would lie on his bed and run his fingers against the edges of his camera and he'd _think_. To share a school with a prince was a remarkable thing - the sort of thing that could endure through adulthood, even. _You'll never guess who I went to school with--!_ For that reason alone, there was a small desire within Prompto's heart that felt useless, yet it persisted.

_Would you be able to get a photo of him...?_

Prompto's photos didn't feature other people. To ask at school was the sort of thing that would get him branded as _weird_ , and at home, there was nobody _to_ ask. That wasn't to say that he'd never taken photographs of himself, but he found it difficult to see the point in doing so. He could look at photos of the sky and remember _that sunrise_ or _that sunset_ , could take photos of animals and remember that cute cat that lived two streets away, but to take photos of himself would remind him of... _what, exactly?_

Photos of _other people_ seemed to be the reserve of people with _friends_. Recording memories of time spent together, things like those purikura machines in the city - things that Prompto had had no reason to use, photos he'd had no reason to take. Thoughts of _taking photos of Noctis_ were different to that, though. Wouldn't it be... _interesting_? It didn't even have to be pictures _with_ him, just being able to take photos _of_ him seemed like something that could be worthwhile...

Again, though, Prompto had no idea how you would approach somebody to ask something like that, let alone _Prince Noctis_. Would it seem strange? (It definitely seemed like it would seem strange.) For as much as his classmates thought he was weird, Prompto had no reason to believe that Noctis would be any different. And being royalty, he'd probably have people bothering him like that all the time - always asking for things, wanting his attention, taking up his time. The more that Prompto thought on it, the worse the idea seemed to become. He couldn't silence the small part of him that wanted, maybe, to be able to take a photo, perhaps - but he knew, like most things, that he wouldn't be able to express it. That he _shouldn't_ express it. Even to try to start a request with _sorry to bother you--_ carried the implication of _bothering_ him. He'd be bothered. He'd be annoyed, and think it was weird, because it _was_ weird, and he'd probably refuse, because why would he ever even _want_ to agree?

_It'd still be kind of cool to have a photo of him, though..._

Those first thoughts of _interest_ rattled around Prompto's mind at that time; looking back on it, he would wonder _was that when--?_ but lacked the self-aware nature to notice that 'interest', let alone try to name it.

 

\-----

 

On entering high school, Prompto successfully made contact with Noctis. Not only that, but a friendship blossomed; that had been the intention, of course, but--...

Prompto's thoughts, during that time, had mostly been dominated by fear. It seemed too good to be true, and Prompto hadn't known quite how to navigate his way through this novel experience. The one lifeline he had was the quiet suspicion that Noctis, too, was in a similar position; for all the time that Prompto had spent not daring to talk to him through their younger years, he had rarely - if ever - seen Noctis spending time with others. He often had certain duties that pulled him from class, cars that brought him to and from school, the sense of _another world_ that nobody knew how to broach, and he seemed too reticent to explain. Those who seemed successful at the whole _social_ _thing_ were those who were able to draw people towards them - and it wasn't exactly that Noctis _lacked_ that, as much as he seemed not to know what to do in reaction to it.

It came through in the small gestures, back then. Casual questions - _wanna walk home with me? Want to go to the park, later? Want to do our homework together?_ \- that were forever answered in the negative, for one reason or another. It was understandable - everybody understood that Noctis, being _royalty_ , had different priorities to those beyond the royal realm - but the answers were predictable, and those questions were offered less and less as time went on. He would still be spoken of in hushed tones, with an awed sort of reverence, but there would be _those comments--_

_He's kind of quiet, isn't he?_

_He's never up for doing anything. I know he gets driven home all the time, but--_

_\-- hard to talk to--..._

_It's like he's in his own world, isn't it?_

(Knowing the things that were said of Noctis out of earshot, Prompto made his decision to approach.)

It almost felt like taking advantage of the situation, and Prompto hadn't known how to feel about that. On the other hand, if the way was left open for him like that, then why _not_ take the risk? And as it was, that risk was rewarded; there still lay that worry at the back of his mind, _are you being annoying? Is this bothering him?_ but that didn't seem to be the case. It barely took any time for Noctis to open up to him, smiling and talking to him like Prompto had _never_ seen with their classmates - it felt like a trap, almost, like at any moment he would wrongfoot himself and be sent tumbling on the strength of his own mistakes. He'd wait for Noctis after class, feeling disarmed by the way _Noctis_ seemed surprised that he'd bother to do such a thing; he wasn't sure that he'd be told point-blank to just go away, but there was part of him waiting for the time that he'd be told _oh, he left class already_ , or be met with a roll of the eyes, _you're still doing this?_ (Those outcomes never materialized.)

The move to highschool brought Noctis his own apartment, which also meant he was no longer chaperoned home from the school gates. They walked home together until their paths diverged; that habit continued until the first time that Noctis stood at the usual point of their parting, his expression somewhat awkward and unsure. He asked Prompto home, that time. " _I've not had anybody from school back there before, so... don't expect much, I guess?_ "

Every part of it felt so casual that Prompto was almost able to relax into it; they spent time together at school, as friends tended to. They walked home together, in a manner that nobody amongst their peers would ever think to question. They'd spend time in the city, at the arcade, at the fast food joints, doing whatever caught their attention on whichever whim they chose to follow. They'd go back to Noctis's apartment, and sometimes it would be too late to go home (or at least, easier to stay), and Prompto would lie wrapped in spare blankets on the couch, _knowing_ that Noctis was sleeping just down the hallway, and--...

At that time, Prompto had words for what his feelings could be, but didn't dare voice any of them. He suspected himself, circling around the issue in the same way that he'd feared the rug of friendship could be pulled out from under him; _I'm Noct's friend, and this isn't what 'friends' do._ Regardless, he didn't know how to stop, and so he could do little more than face those feelings head-on, wide-eyed and terrified.

 

\-----

 

In retrospect, Prompto wondered if he should really have been so surprised that it was Noctis, in the end, who made the first move. He questioned himself down to the point that if it wasn't for Noctis, he wasn't sure he'd ever have had the courage to express his feelings. Second-guessing himself to that degree only brought additional levels of doubt, even in _that_ situation - Prompto had dreamt of it so fervently that he barely wished to question it, but it was for that reason alone that he couldn't help himself. Again, _this is a trap, isn't it? This can't be real._

"... _You don't want to?_ " Noctis had looked at him with concern and confusion, pulling away with the sense of having done wrong, somehow.

" _N-no, I do--! I totally do--! I just--... you're--... you're sure... you want to...?_ "

" _Why wouldn't I be sure?_ "

There were a million reasons Prompto could think of as argument to that question, but each one of them faded before reaching his tongue. _Because you couldn't possibly. Because this can't be happening. Because I've spent so long thinking of you like this, what were the chances of you ever feeling the same way?_ Sat there, with Noctis's hands still on his shoulders, it seemed pointless to try to raise these points - Prompto knew, in his heart, that Noctis wouldn't accept them. That didn't mean, however, that those concerns left him - only that they would collide with the nervous feelings of physical acceptance as Noctis held him close, and closer still--

Prompto went, at that time, from sleeping on Noctis's couch to sleeping in his bed; Noctis would sleep easily, and Prompto never could. Any attempt at refusing to give his feelings a name - to try to maintain plausible deniability - had gone, and there was nothing left but to say it, to feel it, to _know_ it. And yet still he would watch Noctis as he slept, mind racing, still not quite able to _believe--_.

He thought back to that first flush of interest, that persistent thought, _I want to take his photo--_. In the time since, he'd been able to take many - not just of Noctis, but of the two of them _together_. There was a time and a place for those things, though, and Prompto knew that taking photos while in bed together (and while Noctis slept) was the kind of thing that could get him on the wrong side of the Crownsguard, but the temptation was still there, just _slightly_. He still held the fear that it could fall apart at any moment, but to take a photo would be evidence that it had been true, once--... but he just had to trust that it would continue to be true, and for what reason would he need 'evidence'...? He was there, with Noctis beside him; what more could there be than that?

 

\-----

 

The extent to which it was like _he'd never been away--_ caused a tight feeling in Prompto's chest; for all of the years - full, long, actual _years_ \- he'd spent waiting, there was still the part of him that knew he wouldn't know how to react when Noctis returned. _And he will come back_. _He will._

They met at Hammerhead, where Noctis returned with little fanfare but visible determination. He knew, now, what it was he needed to do; they all knew, deep down. The world had been waiting, and had little need to wait much longer - but Prompto hadn't been able to stop himself from taking Noctis by the wrist, and leading him to the side, just for a short while. It almost felt unfair - he hadn't been the only one waiting, he knew that, but he liked to think that Ignis and Gladiolus would forgive him a small amount of selfishness, then.

"I--!... I--... I always loved you, you know." It felt superfluous, saying it out loud, but Prompto knew that he'd never forgive himself if he didn't. For all that it felt awkward, however, Noctis barely seemed surprised.

"... I know. ...If you were trying to hide it, you weren't that great at it." Noctis had given him a gentle knock against the arm. "And what's with that past tense?"

"I--..." Prompto paused, biting his lip. "... Was I really all that obvious?"

"Kinda."

"... When did you notice?"

That question seemed to cause a moment of thought; Noctis folded his arms, giving the matter some concentration. "I don't know if I even remember. Just, like... all along?"

"What?! No way. Even _I_ didn't know it _all along_."

"Okay, so when was _the moment_ for you, then? I want month and year at the very least."

It was easy to fall into old habits, to be flippant about the matter; in a way, that felt easier. Still, Prompto's mind quickly flicked back through all of those old memories - had there been any one particular time? To think that he'd been so obvious was somewhat embarrassing, in hindsight, but it didn't matter anymore, not _now_. But when had it been, though? The first time they'd met? The first time they'd seen one another? By the time they became friends? Somewhere in the middle? Prompto wasn't sure, and it felt somewhat frustrating that he couldn't be as specific as Noctis wanted, even if the question _was_ in jest.

"... I don't know. It just kind of... all blurs together."

"Right?"

"I was that obvious for _that_ length of time? Man..."

Noctis glanced to the side. "... I don't just mean that. I mean--..." He sighed, apparently still finding the words difficult. "I was the same way. When did I fall for you? Couldn't say. It must have been at some point though, mustn't it? But I just think back to those times, and it's just... mixed all the way through it. I can't separate those thoughts."

"Well... I guess as long as we're on the same page, then?" There was some catharsis to be had in agreement, but Prompto wasn't sure what more he could say; words, at that time, seemed to fall hopelessly short. However, Noctis pulled him close, a move that felt so familiar despite it having been so _long_ \--... there was something almost hesitant in the way he pressed his lips to Prompto's own, but the warmth of contact seemed to give him some manner of confidence.

"... Right." (He pulled away just far enough to speak, the sound of amusement on his breath.) "It's good to be sure, isn't it?"

Prompto thought back to all of the time he'd spent so _scared_ \- scared of his own feelings, of the way that Noctis might react, of what might happen if anybody _found out_ \- and knew that he could never have changed that, but wished dearly that he might have been able to. At what point had he been able to feel so _sure_? Even there, taking Noctis into an embrace, he couldn't be sure. _Maybe it doesn't matter,_ he thought. (There was little time left, after all, for any such thoughts to _matter_.)

 


End file.
